


It's Purely Educational, I Swear.

by cherryburlesque



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author is bad at words, Coran is a librarian, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Teacher Shiro (Voltron), Volunteer worker keith, slightly comedic??, the other paladins are teachers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 21:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryburlesque/pseuds/cherryburlesque
Summary: Keith is a volunteer at the school library, where he holds reading sessions for the kids who might not normally read otherwise. His motivation for being there is solely, one hundred percent genuinely focused on encouraging creativity and imagination in his young charges.The smoking hot Kindergarten Teacher has absolutelynothingto do with it. Really.





	It's Purely Educational, I Swear.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sheith Reverse Bang. The art in this fic was created by [Jordan](http://whalechief.tumblr.com). Go check out the rest of their work!  
> Co-created with my RBB writing partner, [Dina](http://holyangelheart.tumblr.com). You can read her fic based on the same art [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422658)

_ “A long, long time in the future, when people are riding on hover bikes and humans have been to the moon more times than you can count, there was a war. A war that raged from as far back as even the oldest creature on earth, all the way through to an age that we can only dream about. _

_ “An empire—forged from the remains of civilisations that humans will never visit—conquered the universe, using strength and fear to keep an iron rule for centuries upon centuries. The leader of this empire was called Zarkon, an evil man of the Galra. No one could withstand his strength, and anyone who tried was crushed under his thumb and their planet left to waste away; new food for a hungry weblum. _

_ “So many people fell under Zarkon that eventually, fear became his weapon, and for thousands of years no one tried to stand against him. His grip on the universe was undisputed, with no one to challenge him, and his soldiers roamed freely through the stars keeping all of the empire under tight control. No one could hope to match his strength, and not a weapon existed that could seize control from him. _

_ “Except for one. _

_ “They called it Voltron, and it was a weapon stronger than even the biggest canons Zarkon had under his command. Voltron was the saviour of many planets, and was piloted by five brave paladins, all who left Earth to fight valiantly in the war. These paladins came together as a team, working as one to power the giant robot, partnered with a fearless princess—“ _

 

“Mister Keith?” A tiny hand shot up, its owner interrupting before she could be called on to voice her question. “How big is the robot?”

Keith tapped his chin with a hum. “Bigger than anything you can imagine.”

“Bigger than a  _ whole house? _ ”

“Bigger than  _ three houses _ .”

A sputtering of awestruck noises crossed the library. Some of them whispered in shock that something could be so huge, while others just stared at Keith with their mouths open. He smirked, always enjoying such an innocent reaction from the kids he told this story to.

The kids at this particular school were bright eyed and eager to learn, and never shied away from asking questions. They wanted to know every single detail regardless of the story, and Keith often found himself running out of time without advancing much of the plot thanks to answering so many questions. It was the highlight of his week, really, and he made sure he always had something special to share with them every time he visited the school library.

It had been a lucky break for him to take up a volunteer position here, and it was one he cherished more than he ever thought he would. Sharing stories with only one or two kids in the public library was one thing, but reading and storytelling to entire classes at a time was something else, particularly when it was a class of troubled kids who reminded him achingly of himself when he was their age. There was always one or two who weren’t interested, but that didn’t matter to Keith. Sooner or later he would find the one story to catch their attention, and in the meantime he was content to let their minds wander. Sometimes it was all they needed to be separated from the rigidity and expectations of the classroom.

“Where were we?” Keith shifted in place, pretending to think for a moment. “Oh yeah, the paladins—“

“Excuse me Mister Keith?” Another hand shot up, this time a young boy with scruffy blonde hair. “What’s a paladin?”

“Like a soldier,” Keith explained. “But soldiers take orders, and paladins work as a team under their princess. And each one of Voltron’s paladins had different coloured armour—“

“What are their names?” One of the girls with pigtails called out. She didn’t bother to raise her hand.

A few of the kids called out in agreement.

“Names?” Keith said, a little startled. He hadn’t quite thought about names beyond the colour of their armour, and kids in the other classes didn’t usually ask in this particular story. They tended to accept his word as law and let him carry on with the story, but he supposed he should have thought better of this bunch. They were smart and inquisitive, not yet information weary from the years of learning they yet had to endure.

“Well,” he hummed, “I normally just called them Red, Green, Black, Yellow and Blue. But if you think they should have names…”

“Well duh,” the girl with pigtails said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “What else are we going to call them?”

“Alicia,” A voice cut across the chatter, soft but still firm. “Remember to be polite, please.”

“Sorry, Mister Shiro…”

Keith tried not to cast his eyes across to the kids’ teacher, but they betrayed him anyway regardless of how much he wanted to keep his focus. ‘Mister Shiro’ as the kids called him, was a bona-fide Adonis in Keith’s opinion; tall and heart-wrenchingly handsome, he hovered at the back of the class every time they were with Keith, doing his damndest to distract him with every single twitch. Most of the time he was quiet, but when he did speak up it was enough to stir up all sorts of things in Keith’s belly, his voice like a lullaby that he could listen to all day and all night.

The kids adored him, and it was easy to see why. Aside from his appearance, he had a genuine warmth about him that attracted the kids to him in droves, and Keith was quite certain that if Shiro was the one telling stories every Thursday morning, he’d have an attendance record of the entire staff and students.

Not that Keith thought about it.  _ Much. _

Shiro flicked his gaze back to Keith and offered him an encouraging smile, and Keith had to fight not to make some ridiculously goofy smile back. Instead, he nodded his thanks and forcibly wrenched his eyes from Shiro’s arms (crossed over his chest making his biceps stand out  _ just so _ ), turning back to the kids who were all waiting for his answer.

_ Shit. What was the question? _

_ _

“Right. Paladin names,” he said, rubbing his hands on his knees while he thought. “What do you think they should be called?”

“How many are there?” One of the boys asked.

“He already  _ said _ five, Tyjon.”

“Five,” Keith answered anyway. “They all pilot a huge mechanical lion and they all form one giant robot called Voltron. Yellow and Blue are the legs, Red and Green are the arms, and Black is the head.”

“So Black is the leader?”

“Well yeah, I suppose. Black controls most of the body.”

“Mister Shiro is the Black one!” The little girl with the pigtails called out. “Because he’s  _ our _ leader! He can totally beat the bad guys!”

Voices everywhere piped up in excitable agreement, and Keith smiled faintly at their enthusiasm. His eyes made their way back to Shiro again, who was grinning fondly at the rowdy little group. Keith had a momentary mental image of Shiro wearing the imaginary armour he’d cooked up for the characters of this story, and had to redirect his thoughts again before he had a stroke. There was  _ no way _ he could act natural around the guy if he had that mental picture at the forefront of his brain.

So Keith might have had a tiny bit of a crush on the man. Big deal; he was an adult. He could deal with it the way adults always dealt with things like this.

By steadfastly ignoring it and hoping it went away. 

“Okay, so Mister Shiro is the leader and the Black Paladin,” Keith said. “Who are the other Paladins?”

A contemplative silence fell over the room. It seemed that for all their enthusiasm in giving the Paladins names, they were drawing blanks on anyone else who they could name for the job.

“Tell you what,” Keith said, checking his watch to make sure he hadn’t gone over. “How about you all think about it for me, and tell me your ideas next time we see each other? But it’s nearly time for you little rascals to head back to class.”

“Ooh, yes,” Tyjon crowed. “We have Miss Allura now for spelling!”

An assortment of cheerful voices joined his, all of the kids excited about their next class with Allura. Like Shiro, she was a gentle but brilliant teacher, and the children adored her just as much for the inventive ways she taught them their letters. Keith had always found spelling to be ass-numbingly boring when he was learning, but he thought he’d probably be about a thousand times better at it if he’d had Allura as his teacher.

“Oh, oh!” Another girl called Riley squealed. “Miss Allura is the princess!”

Several kids gasped dramatically, and a few others called “yeah!”. Keith smirked, knowing the exact reason why they suggested her. If Shiro was Adonis, Allura was Aphrodite. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and no doubt the subject of many of the older kids fantasies once she’d been their teacher. And since Princesses were meant to be beautiful, clearly all the children were in agreement that she fit the role.

“Miss Allura is the Princess then,” Keith agreed. “Only four more to go!”

“Alright then kids,” Shiro piped up over the excitable babble. “Grab your things and line up by the door. Two lines, please. Thank Mister Keith for his stories today.”

“Thank-you Mister Keith~” A chorus of voices sing-songed as the children slung their bags over their shoulders and moved to line up. They were chatty and energetic given their new homework, and a few of them were already squabbling over who would make up the other paladins.

It was nice to see his stories have such an impact on them.

Keith stood from his position cross legged on the floor and arched his back, feeling it pop in protest at the movement. Man, even two hours sitting on the floor and his spine was annoyed at him. He had no idea how he used to do it for six hours a day.

Adjusting his glasses, Keith waved to the kids shuffling over to the doors and moved to the library counter where a stack of books he intended to borrow sat. He cast a glance over his shoulder, watching Shiro herd the stragglers together before calling them to head out (“And…mush!”). On the way past, Shiro caught his eye and smiled, and Keith couldn’t help but smile back despite how his cheeks flamed. He watched him follow the kids all the way out of the library, leaning a long way over the counter until he’d disappeared from sight.

“Found something you like?” A cheery voice piped up from the other side of the counter.

Keith jerked back so hard he nearly lost his balance, and had to steady himself with a comical pinwheel of one arm. Any attempt at nonchalance was pointless, so he laughed as he clutched at his chest, turning his gaze on the Head Librarian, who had appeared from his office behind the counter.

“Coran!” Keith wheezed, hoping to hell that his face wasn’t as red as his burning cheeks indicated. “Don’t just pop up like that!”

“Oh I didn’t,” Coran said brightly. “You were just engrossed in other things when I said hello.”

“I was making sure the kids were all out of the Library before I started tidying.” His defence was weak at best, and Coran just smiled knowingly. 

“Well, there’ll be another class along soon. That should keep that brain of yours occupied for a little while longer.”

Keith just huffed.

 

***

 

If anyone had told Keith when he was younger that he’d find joy in sharing stories to troubled kids, he’d have scoffed at them and told them to get their head checked. He’d been a misfit of a child, forgotten and left to slip through the cracks until he’d aged out of the system as a misfit of a young adult, and it left little patience to tend to the needs of others when his own needs had been so badly met for so long. 

But that was exactly how he’d found himself in the position he now held in an iron grip. A chance visit to the public library, where he spotted a young boy growing increasingly frustrated as he tried to read, a brief flash of one of the few warm memories of his own childhood, and one carefully cultivated friendship later, he had successfully found a niche in his life that had given him purpose and began stoking the timid kindling of a dream. 

Sometimes he read to the kids who turned up; stories straight from books that they chose and were excited to finally understand. Sometimes he made up his own from scratch, surprising himself with the worlds he could create when given the chance. Other times, he recalled old tales from memory; some of his favourites from his own childhood, and classics he remembered from later in life. 

Coran had been a chance meeting that turned Keith’s life down it’s destined path still more. On visiting the pubic library one morning, he’d paused to listen to Keith’s stories and had immediately inquired about his interest in volunteering at the school. Keith had agreed without hesitation, and that had kicked off what had now become what was rapidly turning into a genuine passion. 

These days, Keith’s time was split between the public library, the school and his job at the cinema, where he worked evenings to make ends meet and slowly save to head back to college. Without even realising, his life had become a revolving door of giving troubled kids what he’d never had, and he found himself entirely content with that fact. 

Falling for the Kindergarten teacher had been an accident. Mostly.

***

 

“Come and join us for morning tea!”

Keith stumbled over the book he’d been inspecting in surprise at the abrupt comment. Coran had (one again) appeared out of nowhere, and caught him off guard when he’d been trying to find a story for the kids at the public library to borrow. The morning’s class had gone well; it had been older kids today, more interested in hearing real life stories than fantasy, and Keith had somewhat hesitantly shared some of the experiences he’d had when he was younger. 

It had resulted in their teacher, Hunk, enthusiastically offering to introduce Keith to the other faculty members. Something Coran had unhelpfully endorsed. 

“It’ll be good for you to meet the staff properly,” he’d said brightly. “After all, they’ll all be seeing you regularly now with the regular library sessions for the students.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Hunk added. “Good for social situations and all that. Gotta know the new guy.”

“But I’m not staff,” Keith replied, trying not to seem too awkward. “I only see them for like an two hours a week each.”

“Nonsense. Team bonding is essential to get the best outcome for our little tackers, and you’re part of that! Plus, I’m quite sure the Kindergarten teachers aren’t on supervision today.”

“Kindergarten teachers?” Hunk asked with a furrowed brow, while Keith tried not to crawl under the table and die. “What, is that important somehow or…?”

“Oh no, not really.” Coran was beaming like he wasn’t single handedly signing Keith’s death warrant from mortification. “Just thought Keith would like to know, that’s all. The Kindy kids love him. Their teacher speaks high praise of him all the time when he’s here.”

Keith’s cheeks flamed impossibly dark.  _ That _ was news. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. Just once so you’ll get off my back.”

“Knew you’d come around.” Coran winked, and Keith was ready to combust. 

 

***

 

The staff room was large, and much nicer than the shitty cupboard space at Keith’s workplace. There was a coffee machine on the countertop with a ridiculous assortment of pods provided for it, as well as a jar of biscuits that staff were helping themselves to, and in the middle of the room stood a large square table with fat little chairs occupied here and there by various members of faculty. 

Chatter was apparent even before they opened the door, bright and cheerful in a way that Keith could never remember the teachers at his own school being. He followed Coran in, sticking close in an effort not to stand out, hoping not to draw attention to himself as the stranger in the house. 

There was a huge array of food laid out on the table. Keith’s eyes were drawn to it in surprise when he spotted it; that amount of cakes, sweets and pastries had only ever been reserved for special occasions when he was younger. But as he glanced around, no one seemed to be the focus of attention for a birthday or anniversary, and so he assumed that this was just...normal. 

“It’s a bit excessive isn’t it?” A rich voice murmured in his ear. 

Keith started, and then found himself flushing deeply when he spun around and realised who had spoken. 

“I...sorry. Just not what I was expecting. Mister Shiro, right?”

“Just Shiro,” Shiro laughed. “Only the kids call me that. Sounds weird coming from anyone else.”

“Shiro,” Keith repeated with a weak smile. That laugh was heavenly. 

“Anyway, how long have you been coming to the school? I can’t believe Coran hasn’t invited you before now.”

“I have, thank you!” Coran piped up from Keith’s other side, causing him to start again. “Multiple times. He just always had an excuse until now. Hunk wanted him to come, so I guess pressure works its magic!”

“I brought my own food,” Keith mumbled self consciously. He was already beginning to remember how much he didn’t like crowds. 

“Well help yourself to anything here,” Shiro said with a smile. “We all bring in a plate once a week to share, so you’re welcome to it.”

“Thanks. Is this...uh. A special occasion or something?”

Shiro grinned. “No, we do this all the time. Everyone brings in a plate to share and we gorge ourselves on sugar and processed meat, because everyone knows we definitely practice what we preach about healthy eating.”

_ That was a joke, Keith. Smile.  _

It probably came out a little pained and awkward, but Keith managed to smile at the bright look Shiro was giving him. He felt so out of place among all of these people that he really didn’t know what to do with himself, and so just stood where he was until Shiro encouraged him to step up to the table and try whatever took his fancy. 

Keith hesitantly edged forward to inspect the goodies on display. It all looked amazing, and he had no idea where to start. His own morning tea consisted of some bread and sliced tomatoes, which he might or might not have sprinkled pepper on. All depended on how he was feeling, really. 

But spread across the table were all manner of sweets. Sponge cake, chocolate cake, hedgehog slices, brownies and sandwich triangles, tiny frankfurts with ketchup,laid out invitingly for everyone to share. Keith had only ever seen a layout like this once before; when one of the old workers at the home had retired, and the staff had decided to throw a party. It was most definitely way more extravagant than he had ever been used to for a morning tea. 

No one seemed to be concerned about who owned what or who brought what, and paper plates were piled up at one end of the table to be grabbed as the different foods were picked at. So Keith, despite feeling awkward and unsure, followed suit and grabbed a plate, making his way around the table to hesitantly grab a few treats. 

“Is that all you’re having?” Shiro asked when Keith made his way back to the back of the room. “You can choose more, you know.”

Keith glanced down at his plate in an effort to hide his embarrassment. He’d only picked a piece of slice and a frankfurt, not wanting to seem gluttonous or greedy, and not wanting to draw attention. 

“No, this is fine.”

Shiro didn’t push, for which he was thankful. 

“So I hear you’re fairly active down at the local library too,” Shiro said after a few moments of awkward silence. He seemed to be making a genuine effort to be cheerful, which Keith appreciated. “What do you do down there?”

Keith shrugged. “Same thing I do here, really. Kids come in from all over and we sit and I read to them.”

“Oh, really? During school hours though?”

“They’re...not really the type of kids to be at school,” Keith said quietly. “I like to think I’m helping them.”

Shiro seemed to understand right away that he was approaching territory that wasn’t to be discussed. Keith huffed a sigh at that, and took a small bite of the frankfurt in the ensuing silence. 

“Well, I think that’s really admirable.”

Keith nearly inhaled the frankfurt.

Shiro was watching him with a warm smile, and Keith was pretty sure that if humans could spontaneously combust, he would have done so right then and there from the burn his cheeks were giving off. 

“Uh. Thanks,” he all but squeaked. 

Smooth.

“That’s where I found him, you know!” Coran piped up unexpectedly. Keith was just about ready to have a heart attack. “Telling his paladin story to a bunch of cute little ruffians with dirt on their noses. They were enamoured with it!”

“It’s usually the favourite,” Keith mumbled into his plate. 

“I’ll say,” Shiro agreed. “My class can’t stop talking about it. They look forward to your session every week. You should really think about turning that one into a book or something.”

“I...yeah? You really think so?”

“Yeah I do,” Shiro said. “It’s a genuinely wonderful story. I’m glad you’re here to share it.”

Keith just stared, caught up in Shiro’s gaze and warm smile and unable to do a single thing to stop himself. He wasn’t used to such high praise—particularly from someone as attractive and pleasant as Shiro. Part of Keith’s mind wanted to shut the idea down immediately; the story of the Paladins was a precious one that he’d been telling for years to young kids, and the suggestion of turning it into something just  _ anyone _ could read elicited a kind of instinctive rejection in his mind. But the other part of him—the one dictated mostly by hormones and an innate desire to be  _ liked _ by such a beautiful human—wanted to proclaim Shiro’s idea as the best idea he’d ever heard in his life. 

Shit.

Keith had it bad. 

“I’m...glad I’m able to,” he finally managed. “Share it I mean. With you. The kids. Your class. Yeah.”

Shiro’s eyes gleamed around his smile. And Keith’s heart stuttered.

Keith had it  _ really bad _ .

“Hey, Shiro!” 

Keith’s spell was broken when someone called across the room, breaking him out of his reverie. One of the other teachers; a gangly guy by the name of Lance who taught the older elementary classes, was waving Shiro down with a bright grin. 

“Come and check out some of the drawings my class did today. They’ll crack you up.”

Shiro side-eyed Keith. “Want to see? A lot of them have been drawing your stories lately. They’ve already allocated Paladins.”

“Really?” Keith was caught off guard by this information. “I mean, I know they were trying to figure out who would pilot which Lion, but I never knew they were drawing it.”

“You should feel proud,” Shiro said. “Come on, they’re good for a laugh.”

So Keith found himself awkwardly following Shiro through the mob of teachers and faculty members to where Lance had laid the drawings out across the table. He was beaming down at them with an obvious sense of pride, despite the fact that a lot of them were really just lopsided doodles typical of eight year olds.

Nearly all of them, Keith was shocked to find, featured some aspect of the story he’d been telling them. 

“That’s supposed to be me,” Lance said proudly, jabbing his finger at a brown smudge on one of the drawings. “Apparently. The faceup needs a bit of work I think. But look,” he pointed at a few others, where various caricatures of Lance were identifiable among the drawings. “They’ve decided I’m the blue one! That’s pretty neat, don’t you think?”

Keith cast his eyes in wonder across the drawings. Some weren’t related to his story at all, but a good majority of them were, and he found himself blown away by it. Kids had always liked his story telling—but to adore it so much that they drew and spoke about it in their other classes?

He could hardly fathom it. 

“They made Pidge the green one, which is hilarious because she is  _ hopeless _ with nature,” Lance continued. “I’m pretty sure it’s also a school wide agreement that you’re the black one, Shiro. See?”

Every single drawing depicted Shiro in that role, just as Lance said. The drawings of him were downright hysterical, from adorable attempts at heroic poses, right down to one student simply drawing a square with a smiley face and labelling it ‘Mr Shiro’. 

“This one captures your essence fairly well,” Keith said drily, pointing at the square. “Give that kid a gold star.”

“No, but wait,” Lance said, voice taking on an even more amused tone. “This isn’t even the best part. The funniest thing is  _ every single one of them _ are under the impression that Shiro and the ‘princess’ are going to be together.”

Shiro hid his face in his hands while Lance cracked up laughing, but Keith stated at both of them uncomprehendingly. While it didn’t technically happen in  _ his _ story, if the kids had designated Shiro as the leader, then it kind of made sense to them. After all, the hero and the princess always ended up together in fairy tales.

He didn’t personally take issue with the concept.

Until Lance shuffled the piles—still cackling—and pulled out an assortment of different images. 

Keith’s stomach dropped without his permission when he saw them. 

He’d forgotten that the kids had named Miss Allura as the princess. 

He felt stupid. It wasn’t like he had  _ any _ right to feel disappointed. Or embarrassed. Or really, any kind of reaction except flattered that the students loved his story so much to invest their time in it the way they were. 

He definitely had no right to feel jealous over something as innocuous as a fucking  _ drawing _ . 

“Looks good, doesn’t it Shiro?” Lance laughed, holding up a drawing of what was apparently Shiro and Allura gazing lovingly in each others eyes. “This is right, isn’t it? You and Allura stare at each other like that constantly. They really captured your likeness.”

Shiro was groaning, clearly mortified by the image. His ears were an adorable shade of red which only made Lance laugh more, and Keith half-heartedly laughed along with him, having recognised the social cue. 

“What are you lot giggling about over here?”

Lance’s laughter cut off abruptly at the sound of Miss Allura’s voice. She was holding a mug of tea in hand and eying Lance with a raised brow and a smirk, her expectant expression clear. 

Lance stared like a deer in headlights, the drawing clutched against his chest. He floundered a little as Allura peered over the drawings, and then turned back to him with her hand hand out, clearly not expecting her to show up out of the blue like she had.

“Well, what is it?”

Keith didn’t miss the wink she shot his way, and tried to hide his smile.

Finally, Lance caved with an exaggerated sigh, and handed over the drawing. Allura gazed at it for a few moments with raised eyebrows, her lips pursed in contemplation, before glancing up at Shiro with mirth in her eyes.

“Well, Shiro, I think they captured us quite well, don’t you think?”

It was Shiro’s turn to snort. “Yeah. I especially love the pyramid on my head that substitutes bangs.”

“We make a great couple,” Allura beamed. Keith tried to ignore the way his stomach churned. “Perhaps we should go grab a drink tonight  _ without  _ Lance, and give these kids more fuel for their imagination.”

“Seriously?” Lance whined. “It’s only fiction. You guys are totally doing this on purpose.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Keith said, trying to hide the grimace he knew he was close to spouting. “My bus stops by here soon. Thanks for showing me the pictures…”

“Any time,” Shiro smiled at him, the dusting of colour on his cheeks from Lance’s teasing still visible. “You should come by again for morning tea next time you’re here. We might have some more drawings to show you.”

“Yeah,” Keith said faintly, trying to smile.

He didn’t miss the small look of concern Shiro gave him. But Shiro’s attention was snagged again by another teacher, and Keith was gone before he could ask.

Keith stood outside the door for a few minutes, trying to pick himself back up from the shock of realising just how deep his  _ crush _ was. And how ridiculously futile it seemed.

Heros married princesses, after all.

 

***

 

Crushes were supposed to pass easily. Weren’t they?

 

***

 

“Hey! It’s great to see you, I wasn’t sure whether Lance’s drawings scared you off!”

Keith flushed under the attention, trying to hide the little smile that wanted to let itself break loose. He’d decided resolutely at the end of the last morning tea that he wouldn’t attend another; he was no good with the crowds after all, and no one else really seemed to care about his existence. He’d missed the following weeks, despite Coran’s insistence, but had given in when Hunk had personally come to the library after his class’s reading session to give him puppy eyes.

So having Shiro personally greet him when he arrived was a nice surprise. 

“They didn’t scare me. I was just...uh. Caught up.”

“Coran had you rearranging the shelves did he?” Shiro asked with a grin. “He did that to me too, once. I went in the next day and he’d put everything back where it was originally. I swear he keeps elves hidden in that back office.”

Keith laughed softly, self conscious and unsure how to handle himself, but pleased that Shiro was talking to him. 

“He was drawing when I found him,” Hunk said idly. He edged around Keith with a knowing look on his face, before disappearing into the fold of people around the table. 

“You draw?” Shiro asked, interest clear in his gaze. “That’s amazing! What do you usually work with?”

Keith’s heart was going to burst. 

“Usually just pencils,” he said with a shrug, trying not to look too pleased with the attention. “But sometimes I like to paint too.”

“Do you have any of your drawings with you?”

Keith was caught off guard with the request. Not that he minded sharing his drawings with people—it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to people being interested in what he did. And it just so happened that his current inspiration was real life and the people he had been in regular contact with...meaning Shiro was a regular appearance in his sketchbook.

“I don’t,” Keith lied, hoping he looked apologetic. “I left it at home today.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” 

Both Shiro and Keith started when Coran’s voice piped up from nearby. He’d been lurking by the table of sweets apparently, and to Keith’s utter horror, war brandishing his sketchbook cheerfully. 

“You’ve had this thing with you the whole time,” Coran chirped, either unknown or uncaring of the way Keith’s face paled. “The drawings certainly are something else! You should be proud of them!”

Keith could do nothing short of leap on him as Coran laid the book on one of the tables. A few curious teachers were watching, and Keith wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole the second he saw Coran flip it open. He wasn’t self conscious about his drawings; his skill at portraiture was one of the few things he took pride in, really. But he  _ was _ self conscious about the fact that his subject matter was standing right beside him.

Shiro’s face stared up from the pages of the sketchbook. Some sketches were simple doodles, others painstakingly detailed drawings, all various snapshots of Shiro from Keith’s memory and observations over the last few months of his time volunteering at the school. Occasionally one of the other teachers (and Coran, once or twice) would make an appearance, but the vast majority were focused on one person in particular, and it was painfully obvious where Keith’s interests lay. 

“Damn, Shiro,” Lance said appreciatively as he leaned over the book. “I knew you’d make a dreamy as hell model, but I didn’t know you’d actually decided to go through with it.”

Shiro had a funny look on his face as he gazed down at his own image. A few people were ribbing him, but all Keith could think about was what a fucking creep he must look like, with all of those pictures. Candid shots of Shiro and some of the kids littered the pages, some of just his face or his smile, some of his eyes, sketches and scribbles inspired by the kids drawings from his class. All drawn with pen or pencil, and only occasionally punctuated with another subject matter.

Sure it wasn’t  _ just _ that he had a ridiculous crush on the guy. Shiro also happened to be a good subject as well, and the one Keith saw the most at the school. It wasn’t creepy to want to draw someone attractive, right? It was only creepy if the subject  _ thought _ it was, right?

Right?

“That...sure is a lot of drawings,” one of the shorter science teachers said. “When did you get time to pose for all of those?

“I...didn’t,” Shiro said, clearly at a loss. “How long have you been doing these, Keith? Keith?”

There was no answer. 

Keith had already fled the staffroom. 

 

***

 

If it were possible to die of humiliation, Keith was making a damn good attempt at it.

His sketchbooks all went in the fire when he returned home that afternoon, in a fit of mortification. 

 

***

 

“They  _ all _ saw them?” Matt asked incredulously. 

“Yes,” Keith groaned. “The entire staff room. It was horrible. I’m never going back.”

He was standing at the counter of the candy bar, the cinema in quiet at this time of the evening. Matt, his co-worker and confidante (usually regardless of whether he wanted to be or not) was leaning against the popcorn maker, soaking up the warmth the heat lamp provided in the chill of the foyer. 

Currently, Keith was draped across the counter with his head in his arms, groaning miserably at his shitty fate.

“ _ Everyone? _ ”

“Ugh, would you stop?”

“Sorry,” Matt snickered. “It’s just...really fucking embarrassing for you, buddy. But hilarious for me to picture in my head. How many were there?”

“You’re  _ really _ not helping.”

“Never said I was here to help.”

Keith lifted his head and glared pathetically. 

It had been a week since the Great Sketchbook Incident, and Keith had refused to go back to the school since. He’d gotten home, called Coran and made up some lie about picking up extra work hours, and had promptly attempted to forget the entire school existed. Which was arguably a shitty thing to do, but Keith’s pride was wounded and he felt like a felon, and he couldn’t bring himself to face the judgmental stares of the teachers who had been there just yet.

So rather than deal with his embarrassment in a healthy way, Keith had instead recounted the horror to an increasingly gleeful Matt, and subsequently asked to be drowned in a slow, painstaking manner. 

“So, just to sum up—”

“You  _ really _ don’t have to sum it up.”

“You developed a hardcore crush on Mister Tall and Handsome, decided that the best way to cope with that crush was to just stare from a distance rather than talk to him like a normal human, began drawing his face at every single opportunity you had because that is  _ definitely  _ not something out of a Saw movie, and then had your sketchbook stolen and brandished in the tea room for every one of Tall and Handsome’s colleagues to admire. About right?”

“Yeah,” Keith whined. “About right.”

Matt whistled low in his throat. “Dude. Want to hand over the last of your dignity? Because I can take it from you right now if you want.”

Keith lifted his head again, gazing at Matt suspiciously. That tone of voice meant trouble, and when Matt was talking trouble, that was usually bad news for Keith. At least, it was when they were both working the same shift. Last time Matt had spoken to him like this, Keith had been stuck cleaning the cinema after a bunch of rowdy teenagers had been thrown out for throwing their food and drinks at each other.

“What are you talking about?”

Matt shrugged, only looking a little apologetic. “Kinda already knew about it.”

“ _ What!? _ ” Keith shot upright, utterly mortified and recoiling at the impish grin on Matt’s face. “How the  _ hell _ did you know about it already? I didn’t tell a  _ soul _ .”

“I heard about it the day it happened.”

Keith stared, face hot enough to melt off his skull, waiting for answers. 

“My sister is one of the science teachers. She was there. First thing she did when she got home was tell me all about the guy who had like a million drawings of the Kindergarten teacher in his sketchbook.”

“Oh god,” Keith moaned. He slumped down over the counter again, seriously debating the pros and cons of death. “This is where I die.”

“If it helps, it was only a  _ little _ creepy.”

“ _ Matt _ ,” Keith whined, drawing his name out pathetically. 

Matt just laughed. “Dude, they’ve all probably forgotten about it. Except for Mr Tall and Handsome. Though I did hear that the drawings  _ were _ really good, so who knows? Maybe they kept the book and have hung all the pictures around the classrooms as a way to inspire the students.”

“I’m quitting.”

“The candy stock needs to be rearranged before you do that,” Matt called, laughing to Keith’s back as Keith made his way to the storage rooms. 

 

***

 

Three weeks after the Great Sketchbook Incident, and Keith was back at the public library for the first time in a while, sharing his story with the feral kids who liked to hide in there to escape the winter chill. He previously hadn’t been able to go as often as he liked given the fact he was juggling the school and the cinema as well. But it was a relief to be able to be there again, back in familiar territory where the grubby faces of troubled kids were happy to see him.

Maybe it was a good thing that he’d been avoiding the school. 

He made a mental note to remind himself to spread his time a little more evenly. These kids deserved to hear the stories they wanted to hear just as much as the kids at the school. It didn’t matter if there was no super attractive teacher there to serve as motivation. 

The ones that were at the library habitually were happy to see him back, and he them. Once, the kids would have snubbed him as any other idiot from a charity trying to  _ help  _ the poor, misguided youth, but when they had learned he shared a story very similar to theirs, they became fast companions. 

Keith could feel the guilt under his veins at the fact he’d not been to see the regulars as much. When they asked, he told them half truths and said his life had gotten in the way. It probably wasn’t the best to lie to them like that, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of  _ any _ of them thinking he abandoned them for something better.

The school  _ wasn’t _ better. That was the worst thing. They were all kids, wanting to listen and learn. Some of them just had better circumstances than others. 

He’d elected to read from a proper novel on this visit. These kids weren’t as super invested in his hero story as the school kids. Most of them just wanted to read and understand the stories that other kids spoke about, and so he opted to read anything they requested, within reason. 

This time it was the second Harry Potter novel. 

Keith read to them for a solid two hours, stopping only to answer their questions about the story. It wasn’t until the head librarian hustled them away that he ended up halting the session, but it was with a renewed promise to see the kids again tomorrow and continue the book from where they’d left off. 

He felt just a tiny bit guilty, because tomorrow he was supposed to be at the school. 

Coran would understand.

His volunteer sessions at the public library always ended with him helping the Librarian tidy. It had been a return he’d given ever since he used to wander in there himself as one of those grubby children, and despite his absences over the past month, he intended to continue that tradition. 

The Librarian (a portly old lady named Maree), delighted in the reasons Keith gave her for his missed visits. He liked that about her; it never mattered that the kids weren’t reading at  _ her  _ library. She was just happy to hear that they were reading at all. She encouraged Keith endlessly to continue with his passion, even going so far more than once to suggest he turn his original stories into fiction.

Her opinion was the only one Keith ever really considered, despite the fact others had suggested the same thing to him before. So he stuck around, wanting to help her out regardless of the fact that he’d probably be late for his shift at the cinema.

He was idly skimming through the shelves of returned books to put back where they belonged when a throat softly being cleared caught his attention.

Keith immediately glanced up, and found himself flushing scarlet in mortification.

“S-Shiro,” he squeaked. “I...you—how did—?”

“Matt told me,” Shiro said with a small, awkward smile, putting Keith out of his stuttering misery. “Pidge’s brother. Turns out we have mutual friends.”

Keith groaned in agony, and brought his hands to his face to hide his burning cheeks, not caring that it was shoving his glasses askew. 

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m seriously going to...god. I can’t believe he’d betray me like this.”

“You think he betrayed you?” And god dammit, the tinge of hurt in Shiro’s tone drew Keith out of his self pitying embarrassment to level the guy with a lost look.

“I was honestly hoping I’d never have to face any of you ever again after the last time I was at the school. Being arrested on sight for felony stalking isn’t something I want added to my rap sheet.”

Shiro managed a half-startled laugh, like he wasn’t sure whether or not Keith was serious or not. At least it lightened the atmosphere a little, and when Keith was sure Shiro wasn’t about to start calling the police, he found himself able to relax just a tiny bit. 

Just a tiny bit.

“No one is getting you arrested,” Shiro said, eyes bright with mirth. “Honestly, I thought those pictures were pretty good. I had no idea you drew. Next time you come in you should hold a drawing class instead of story time.”

“Don’t remind me,” Keith grumbled. 

There was a beat of silence, awkward again. Keith had no idea what to say, so he just rubbed at his forearm with the opposite hand, and quietly hoped for the floor to open up and swallow him whole so he could be free of this mess. Shiro seemed to be equally as unsure, and he thumbed idly through the little trolley of books Keith had been replacing in lieu of making idle conversation. 

_ Why is he here? What point is this if he’s not going to tell me off? How did it even come up in conversation with Matt? _

“They miss you, you know.”

It was said softly; so softly that Keith almost missed it. He glanced up to see Shiro watching him, head tilted a little with a soft look on his face. 

“The kids,” Shiro added when Keith said nothing. “They miss your library sessions. You should come back, Keith.”

“They’ll survive,” Keith muttered. “They’ve probably already written the rest of the story themselves anyway. I’m better use here.”

“They’re still kids though. It’s not just the story they miss. They miss  _ you _ . I get at least two kids a day asking whether or not you’ll be in for a visit or not. It sucks having to tell them no.”

“Maybe hearing no once in a while will be good for them.”

He was being petulant; he knew that. But his pride was still wounded, and he wasn’t sure whether he could face the other teachers. Especially not some of the more loudmouthed ones. Just because Shiro had elected to skim over the subject of his creepy obsession didn’t mean any of the others would. 

When he looked up again, Shiro was watching him with a frown.

“I didn’t really think you’d be the type to turn down a sad kid,” he said, and there was a hint of disapproval in his tone that Keith  _ hated _ . “I’d understand if you were unwell, or had obligations that meant it was impossible. But it’s kind of unfair to punish the kids like this just because you’re embarrassed you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.”

“I don’t think that’s how that euphemism works,” Keith said softly. 

Shiro waved the correction off. “Either way, it’d be good to see you back there. I’m sure you’ll be able to manage this one and the school, right? Three days here, two days there?”

Keith sighed, heavy and defeated. 

“Alright.”

The way Shiro beamed at him was enough to blind the sun. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then, right?”

Keith nodded glumly. 

Looked like his fate was sealed.

 

***

 

It would be ridiculous to assume that Keith spent a good hour the next morning trying to figure out what clothes he should wear. Right? Stupid, because he was only going back to the school for a few hours to tell stories and hopefully avoid every single one of his colleagues. If anything, he should go in full camo to try and blend in with his surrounds.

Ridiculous.

Except that’s exactly what he did. 

For an hour. 

_ It has nothing to do with looking good for Shiro. It’s  _ just _ because I have some dignity to try and claw back. That’s all. _

He couldn’t even convince himself of that. 

 

***

 

“Mister Keith! You’re back!” 

“Mister Keith, were you sick?”

“Can you tell us a mermaid story this time, Mister Keith?”

“Where did you go? Did you go to Spain?”

“Were you  _ grounded!? _ ”

The questions came at him from left, right and centre, the kids gleeful and overexcited that Keith was back. He felt a little bad about that—the kids shouldn’t have to suffer just because he was a pathetic excuse for a human. But he couldn’t do anything about that now, and he simply relegated himself to answering all their questions as best he could.

Thankfully, his return to the school had been relatively uneventful thus far. None of the teachers he’d seen on his way to the library had said anything to him, though he did get a few sidelong looks that made his cheeks burn. Coran had welcomed him with a grin like a split in a watermelon and promptly scooped him up in a bone crushing hug, and had immediately set Keith to work sorting out returns that had ‘mysteriously not found their way back onto the shelves in the entire month you were absent!’. 

It was, in all honesty, a much better outcome than Keith had feared. 

When Shiro had ushered his class in that morning, he met Keith with a brilliant smile, which resulted in Keith flushing from his collarbone to the tips of his ears. The class had immediately set upon him with questions, crowding and rowdy, and it struck Keith then just how much they really had missed him.

He wasn’t used to being missed. 

So he set them down and told them a story, and they all listened with rapt attention. He continued the story of the space robots, after a brief pause trying to figure out where they’d left off, and the kids soaked it all up like a sponge just as they had the very first day he’d begun telling them the tale.

By the time the class was up, Keith’s mood had lifted considerably, and he shot Shiro a small grin over the kids heads, nodding his head in appreciation.

“Hey kids, do you think Mister Keith would like to see all the drawings you’ve done for him while he’s been away?”

Keith’s eyes grew wide, and he was immediately bombarded with a chorus of yes’s as the children all stood and began clamouring for their book bags. Shiro was smiling over the chaos, and Keith stayed glued to where he was, still not at all used to so much love and effort being put into his shitty make believe. 

He watched, at a loss for words while pictures and notebooks were pulled out of their hiding places, unaware that Shiro was making his way around the mass of kids to crouch by Keith’s side. It wasn’t until he spoke (startling Keith almost comically) that Keith realised he was there.

“They’ve been drawing what they all thought would happen next while you were away,” Shiro said with a fondness in his tone. “Some of them have convinced themselves that they’re exactly right and nothing you say will change it.”

“Wow,” Keith said weakly. “I mean, I know Lance’s class were drawing, but I didn’t realise...so many of them…”

“You underestimate how much they like you,” Shiro said with a small shove on Keith’s shoulder. “You seem to do that a lot, I think.”

Before Keith could even ask what that meant, Shiro had stood and was instructing the kids to make a line, ready to show Keith their favourite drawing that they picked out of what they’d done for him. 

And one by one they presented Keith with their drawings, telling him what was happening among the squares and scribbles and lumpy looking cats. Every single kid was clearly proud of what they’d done, and it was giving Keith a million and one ideas to take back with him to the public library. He praised and encouraged every piece, and even kept a couple of them when the kids offered them to him. They’d get pride of place on his tiny little fridge, clumsily signed in childish hand with each artists name.

All of them were completely different too. It was comically hilarious how some drawings depicted a great battle to end all battles, and others seemed to just be happy with the idea of a great big robot. And then there were the kids who liked to say which characters were ‘dating’, because  _ obviously _ that’s just how it ended. 

Nearly all of them agreed that their hero would end up with the princess.

Which then resulted in a lot of drawings of Shiro and Allura.

Keith tried not to be bothered by it. They were  _ kids _ for christ sake, and it was unbelievably petty of him to feel the way he did over a bunch of childish drawings. But clearly, his own brain didn’t reach that memo, and with every picture he saw of Shiro and Allura (or what was supposed to pass as them anyway) holding hands, a little niggle in his mind reminded him that his chances were worse than zero, and that pained. 

Just a little. 

He took the drawings and praised them anyway, encouraging the kids to keep drawing. He wanted to see everything they came up with, regardless of what it was or how it made them feel. Encouraging their creativity was good. If it helped one kid find worth in what they were doing, then it was good enough for him. 

By the end of the session, Keith had a pile of drawings gifted to him by the students, and a full feeling in his chest. 

“Thank you for these,” he said earnestly as the kids all beamed up at him. “They’re amazing. All of this art has given me an idea, actually.”

Keith flicked his eyes across to Shiro and gave him a little smile. It wasn’t  _ his _ idea, technically. But he could claim it.

“I thought I might write this story down properly,” Keith continued. “And I’d love for you to help me with the pictures. I’m going to get some of my friends from the other library to help me too, and we can all make a book together.”

A chorus of delighted cheers and excitable bouncing came in response, and Keith smiled, truly warmed. Regardless of what he’d done, Keith should never have been away from these kids for so long—they were genuinely something special. 

The bell sounded through the school, signifying the end of the lesson and the start of recess. 

Keith stood, watching the kids file out one by one with an affectionate smile, and moved to gather up his new collection of drawings. 

Damn, he was going to need to get a folder for these. 

“Hey, Coran? Have you got a folder or something that I can put these drawings in?”

“Here.”

Keith started. That was definitely  _ not _ Coran’s voice. He turned back to the library desk, eyes wide with the paper clutched at his chest, to see Shiro sanding there with a small grin, holding out a plastic snap top folder. 

“I thought you’d probably need something,” Shiro said with a half shrug when Keith just squinted. “The kids said they wanted to give you their drawings, so I figured…”

He trailed off, flicking the corner of the folder. Keith slowly approached after another moments pause, regarding Shiro with not  _ quite _ suspicion, but not complete comfort either. He took the folder though with a grateful murmur of thanks, and began carefully arranging the drawings so they’d all sit reasonably well without being crushed. 

“So, I guess morning tea is off the cards?” Shiro asked lightly.

Keith’s shoulders hunched instantly. He snapped his head up to stare at Shiro, not sure whether he was joking or genuine, but still a little skeeved regardless. Which was stupid, because out of the both of them it was definitely Shiro who had the right to be pissed off, and yet here he was passing up his morning tea break to stand and make shitty small talk. 

Keith really didn’t understand him. 

“Okay,” Shiro said when the silence stretched on a little too long. “Too soon for morning tea jokes. You know, it wasn’t  _ that _ bad, really.”

Keith didn’t answer, and Shiro tapped the counter lightly with his prosthetic hand, apparently regarding him with some measure of contemplation. Keith just silently rearranged the papers in the folder, hoping that this encounter would end soon so he could go home and bury his head in the dirt. 

“What about dinner?”

Shiro’s expression was light and amused when Keith’s head snapped up so fast he cricked his neck. He stared for a few seconds, half wondering whether he was dreaming or not, but Shiro didn’t break eye contact and didn’t crack a smile. He was genuinely asking, and suddenly Keith’s world was upside down.

“What?”

It wasn’t very eloquent, but it was all he could manage with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and Shiro looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“I’m asking you to dinner,” Shiro replied simply. 

“With the other teachers?”

“No, just me.”

“As like, a catch-up thing or?”

“A date, Keith.” Shiro shook his head with a small, fond smile. “I’m asking you on a date. With me. Just us, no kids, no school.”

Keith was at an utter loss. 

The first thing he wanted to do was tell Shiro all the reasons why going on a date was an absolutely  _ terrible _ idea. That was followed by a complete list of why Keith wasn’t a dateable person, and why it would be better if Shiro picked someone else much suited to him. Why dating him was a bad idea altogether because there were so many other people in the world who would be much nicer with less baggage and less problems. 

Which then brought Keith around on another tangent, and he almost did a double take.

“What about Allura?”

Shiro blinked. “What about her?”

“Won’t she be annoyed?”

“Why would she?”

Keith frowned up at Shiro, now utterly confused. “Aren’t you dating her?”

The bark of laughter that Shiro let loose was enough to startle Keith into jumping back a little, and in an instant he felt himself turning crimson in embarrassment with the sudden understanding that he’d misinterpreted something  _ very _ badly. 

“Where on earth did you get  _ that _ idea from?” Shiro laughed, hand over his mouth while he watched Keith slowly self combust. 

“Well…” Keith flustered, waving a hand idly at the drawings he held. “I mean, the drawings…”

There was a beat of silence, and then a another snort. “The drawings? Really?”

“Not only that,” Keith hastened to add, suddenly feeling defensive. “That time at morning tea, too. The first time I was there. Everyone was cracking jokes about how good you two looked together, so I just...kind of assumed…”

A hand came to rest at his hunched shoulder, and Keith looked up to see Shiro watching him with something that looked a little like sympathy and a little like amusement. 

“That’s all they were Keith. Jokes. It was funny because I’m not attracted to women.”

Keith let out a tiny “oh”. 

There was another moment of silence, when Shiro seemed to be waiting for Keith’s answer. He wasn’t pushing, just patiently letting Keith collect his thoughts while he stared in mortification at the library desk, both of them oblivious to the faint shouts of children playing in the background. 

“Are we just not going to talk about it?” Keith finally asked. When he looked up, Shiro had tilted his head in apparent confusion, and he huffed. “The drawings? The thousand-and-one creepy stalker pictures that got thrown around the entire staff room and made me a laughing stock? Does that not actually bother you at all?”

“Hmm.” Shiro folded his arms and leaned against the desk, gazing absently to the side while he thought. “No, actually. I thought it was rather sweet.”

_ “Sweet?” _

“Yeah,” Shiro smiled. “Someone thought I was attractive enough to draw more than once. I take it as a compliment.”

“You are  _ not _ normal.”

“I suppose not. But neither are you,” a smirk. “Given the fact that your idea of harbouring a crush translated into said thousand-and-one stalker pictures rather than just asking me if I was interested.”

Keith was at a loss. He stared at Shiro, gaping a little helplessly while he clutched at the plastic folder to his chest. This wasn’t how he imagined his day going. At all, in any capacity. In fact, this was the exact  _ opposite _ of how he’d pictured his day, and he had no idea what to do with himself or the information he was beginning to understand.

Shiro was interested in him. Had been for a while, and apparently had continued to be interested in him despite the fact that Keith was pathetically unable to demonstrate any semblance of social skills. Shiro wasn’t dating Allura, like Keith had deluded himself into believing. He’d asked Keith on a date.

A question Keith still hadn’t answered.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Yes?” Shiro asked, smile broadening.

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” Keith said, finally allowing himself to smile. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
